Curse of the Conqueror
by Writer of the Norm
Summary: Amidst planning for a decisive and rather personal battle against Caesar of Rome, one which her mentor, the God of War assures she will win, the Conqueror must also deal with her growing distrust of a shamaness friend, the straining relationship with her closest companion Marcus and her own unexplainable and cold behavior towards an Amazon Queen that once offered her a home.
1. Chapter One

**Author note: I changed my story a bit so I re-posted an old chapter changed and a new additional chapter.**

Hypatia looked up towards the sky, at the gloomy clouds hanging in stillness against the backdrop of the heavens. The sombre waves veiled the sun completely from sight. The Gods were constantly toying with man. The last few weeks, Poteidaia had experienced the hot scalding heat of summer in all its agonizing glory. The sun, like a shiny pearl proudly displayed by its fashioner, blinding the mortal peasants with its beauty. The heatwave had lasted so long the elders of the village had begun to suspect that a drought was eminent. Hypatia's parents had already began to carefully ration their stockpile of wheat in preparation for an uncertain future. Dinner had become less appealing and evolved into a ritual full of tensed silence. Hypatia had tried hard to savour the bread and appreciate its taste but often found herself feeling nauseous, the anxiety causing her to lose her appetite.

On one such solemn occasion, her kid brother had suddenly burst into tears, yelling and stammering as he tried to grasp for air. Hypatia had looked at him with puzzlement, unable to understand his incoherent rant. But her mother, a kind and caring woman, rose swiftly from her seat and kneeled beside him, pulling his head onto her bosom and hugging him close.

"There, there. No one is going to starve, honey." She consoled him softly. Her hand gently stoking his arm.

Hypatia remembered her father's stare at the scene unfolding before them. Unknowingly, his eyes had glistened for a moment with tears. When he felt the pressure of the gathering moisture tugging at his eyelids he quickly blinked the tears away and gathered his composure. In all the short sixteen summers that she had lived, Hypatia had never seen her father display such emotion. He had always been a quite figure who worked hard and humbly as a farmer. To him, a man could not display such weak emotions and, with responsibility of protecting his family, he could not _afford_ to either. Hypatia had no doubt that Herodotus loved his wife and children but, in the past, had often longed to feel the affection. Seeing him in that vulnerable moment as he sat across from her at the dinner table, however, had made her change her mind. She had not realized how accustomed she had become to his reserved yet reliable behaviour. As much as she hated to admit, she was relieved he could bare the burdens of the family, it had made her feel safe and protected. As she had watched her mother calm her only son down, she observed the weariness etched on Hecuba's face. Seeing her parents filled with worry only ignited fear in herself.

But today, the Gods decided the sun was no longer meant to dangle in front of face of mankind, mocking them like a carrot stick to a donkey. Today, it was a rare precious pearl to be hidden from prying, greedy hands. Thankfully, the air had chilled the night before and the quite, gentle sound of a rain shower filled the valley. Soon it built had into a downpour and, with her brother's insistence, Hypatia finally went to join the other villagers outside in a gathering full of dancing, cheering and thank-filled prayers to the Gods.

Hypatia lost her footing on a small rock and stumbled slightly as she continued to trek up the steep hill. The grass was damp with dew and a layer of thick fog filled the scenery before her. It was difficult to see even even an arm's length away. As she continued to carefully hike, her ears perked up to the sounds of birds chirping from the forest nearby. And she thought she heard something else as well. But she couldn't quite understand what it was. It was faint, almost in the back of her mind, as if she were dreaming it. She stopped for a moment to try to figure out what it was. Hands clenched and eyes shut tight, the young blonde tried to comprehend the uneasy feeling that was creeping up. A moment later, she gave up with a frustrating sigh and continued past the hill towards her destination.

It was difficult to see through the white haze but she took her best guess and turned right, hoping she was on the right path towards the well. Hypatia continued her slow, methodical walk, listening again to the songs of the birds. She attempted to hum along to the sound to keep herself amused but chuckled at her pathetic attempts. Suddenly, it occurred to her that she had probably walked too far. For some reason she panicked, as if fearing she would get lost and never be able to find her way home. _Don't be silly _Hypatia_. Your turning into a worrywart like Lila._

She turned around sharply and retraced her footsteps until she was back at the foot of the hill. Facing right once again, she headed out into the deep, this time slightly north. As she walked, the grass became scarce, the dark rich soil pregnant with water could be seen. Hypatia signed inwardly, recognizing the familiar trodden patch of land near the well. As she continued to walk, the grass cleared completed as she found her footing on the slimy mud. Tip toeing so as not to ruin the soles of her boots in the mud. Finally she found the recognized the well head, a simple circular structure built of large stones. She noticed the extra supply of buckets next to it, strewn about haphazardly, probably from last night's storm. Picking one up, Hypatia lamented at the muddied bottom, scolding herself for not bringing a clean one from

The blonde began to methodically retrieve water from the well, as she had done several times before. She placed the water into her portable bucket and sat it on the ledge. Catching her breath from the heavy lifting she noticed something peculiar. The water in the bucket was rippling, rhythmically. She stared at it a few moment in confused amazement. Stilling herself, she listened. That feeling of uneasiness that had nagged her earlier was returning and its roots seemed to be stemming from the ground. In her stillness, she felt the ground vibrating subtly. She held her breath and listened close to what it felt like the rumbled begins of thunder.

She watched the water as the ripples grew intense, the ground began to shake beneath her and the rumble grew louder until she could hear neighing. Her eyes fell forward, trying desperately to see past the fog.

Suddenly out of the fog emerged dozens upon dozens of war horses. They galloped past her at lightening speed, soldiers sitting on top, grunting and urging the horses on. The young girl stood still, frozen by fear. One after another, the cavalry cleared from the fog continuously, as if they were waves endlessly hitting the shore. Hearing a loud neighing, her eyes whipped to the site in front of her. A horse charged towards her. She turned around in an attempt to run away, out of the horse's path, but was quickly caught when a rough hand gripped tightly across her abdomen and swooped her up. Violently, she was thrown on top of the horse like a carpet, her head hitting the the armoured dressing that decorated the mare.

"I've got you now, little girl!"


	2. Chapter Two

Hypatia sucked in her breath and squared her shoulders as her and the fellow captured slaves were made to stand in row, awaiting to be examined. It had been nearly three full days since a group of marauders had raided the valley and captured some of the peasants. Those three days were the most dreadful moments of her life. Hypatia's heart was filled with dread and worry at the uncertainty of her own future and that of her family. She had spent the past few days cramped in a carriage with others like her, bound at the hands. She was thankful to Athena that at least the raiders had, for the most part, left the slaves alone.

Having lived her entire life in the quite village of Poteidaia, Hypatia was not prepared to witness the wonders of a large, bustling city like Corinth. As they past through the city, Hypatia walked through markets, some selling herbs she had never heard of and fabric in every colour imaginable. At a large open square, a man stood on the raised platform and read aloud the news from a scroll, while men stood around and listened. Children ran past her in laughter as they chased each other. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry, walking with a purpose -so different from the slow pacing of village life she was used to. The biggest wonder however, was waiting for Hypatia at the northwest end of the city. A large castle made of stone was garrisoned behind a protecting wall and gate. The building was nestled in the corners by wooded area. It was while approaching the gate that Hypatia noticed the guards were dressed in similar style of the men that had captured her. It was then that Hypatia realized these were not marauders but rather soldiers. Examining them closely with a new eye, Hypatia had concluded that her guess was correct, they all seemed to be wearing purple and gold arm bands. The colours of the Conqueror. She has heard stories of the merciless ruler who had pillaged the entire east of Greece and established herself in Corinth. It was said that even the war god Ares himself could not equal the death toll of the heartless Conqueror.

The large door in the far side of the room opened and Hypatia held her breath. A woman, dressed in red robes entered, flanked by guards. The sounds of their boots bounced off the large ceiling of the room, causing an echo. Hypatia couldn't help but stare out of the corner of her eye. The woman was no doubt beautiful, her brown hair cut just until the shoulders. She started making her slowly past the line of slaves, examining them carefully. Hypatia was a little taken a back by the appearance of the Conqueror. In her mind, she had pictured the woman to be taller and more intimidating but this woman seemed to inhabit those characteristics.

The room was dead quite except for the movement of her boots and the occasional firm command she would gave to a slave she wanted to examine more closely. Of the twenty people in front of Hypatia, the woman had picked out only two, which the guards had collected. Hypatia's heart began to beat wildly in her chest as the woman came closer and closer until Hypatia herself came under scrutiny. Out of fear, she kept her eyes cast down on the floor.

"Look up." The woman commanded.

Hypatia gulped and did as she was told. Catching a glance of the woman up close but brown-haired beauty's eyebrows were furrowed as she focused on the property in front of her.

"Turn around."

Hypatia gave a slight yelp when the woman looked down the back neckline of her dress, her cheeks burning at the breach of privacy.

"This one as well." The woman told the guards.

Hypatia's eyes went wide and her heart began to beat even more erratically. The guards approached, grabbing her arm rather violently and pulling her into the separated group.

"The rest can go to the market." The woman said loudly as she headed to towards the doors. "Have Atticus see to those three," she added before she left.

The remaining slaves began to talk amongst each other, confused and fearful about their fate. The guards ordered them to quite down and re-chained them in manacles. Hypatia's eyes began to water and she felt herself panicking. The side door behind her opened and a short, balding man in purple robes entered.

"She wants these three." A guard behind her bellowed in his deep voice.

The plump man stared at Hypatia and the other two chosen men and smiled. "Excellent, she always has such great taste!"


	3. Chapter Three

**Note: I'm focusing on the slave a lot, but it's just to set up the story, it will get Xena-centric soon.**

"Can I sit here?" Hypatia asked timidly.

The young man sitting on the bench looked up. "Please," he replied, pointing towards the empty seat across from him.

Hypatia smiled in thanks and sat down with her bowl of porridge. She stared at it for awhile, stirring mindlessly. The young man took notice.

"I don't think I've seen you around here before, you new?" He asked, trying to start a conversation.

"Yes," Hypatia replied quietly. "I arrived here yesterday."

"Oh, you must be from General Atia's raid." The young man concluded.

"Yes, she picked me to serve her. I'm supposed to help her upkeep her appearance, although I know nothing of such things." Hypatia explained.

"Her last one was old and passed away. Don't worry though, you will learn all you need to know," the young man added trying to assure her. "Although, she can be a cruel woman."

"I've heard the same from another slave." Hypatia added worriedly.

Silence descended upon the duo. The man could not think of what to say to make the young slave feel better. He had seen first hand how strict and merciless the general could be towards her slaves. He felt sadness for the young woman but also thankful that he was not in the same position.

"Are you also a slave?" Hypatia brought the man out of his thoughts.

"Um, I was but I ran away when I was young." The man said.

"Teach me how to do that." Hypatia joked shyly.

The comment brought out a chuckle from the young man. "I'm Darius," he said putting his hand in front of him.

The young woman reached over and shook his hand, "Hypatia."

Hypatia grasped his firm hand and felt her heart flutter at seeing the sparkle in his blue eyes. She noticed his prominent chin and long curly brown hair draped just below his ear. He was handsome and, by the looks of it, not much older than she herself was.

"So, what do you do around here Darius?" The young woman asked.

"Um...hm," Darius realized he didn't have a good answer. He thought for a long moment, " I guess you could say I serve the Conqueror."

"But you are not a slave?" Hypatia asked, alluding to his past comments.

"The Conqueror doesn't keep slaves. She's paranoid they might rebel otherwise. She keeps hired help instead." Darius offered, "Keep 'em paid, keep 'em happy." He added, remembering it was what the Conqueror had once said to him.

"Oh," Hypatia's heart sank. She suddenly felt a jolt of jealousy, knowing that she could have been in a much better situation. Instead would have to suffer the wrath of General Atia, and with no real reward safe for food and shelter, something she already got at home in her village.

"I have never seen the Conqueror before but heard many stories," Hypatia tried to forget about her current situation.

Darius smiled, knowing many were always curious, "Her reputation precedes her."

"Do you think I will ever have to face her?" Hypatia was fearful at the thought of having to watch out for yet another intimidating figure.

"Likely not. General Atia's slaves usually keep to her quarter." Darius explained. "The Conqueror is expected to arrive in three day's time. The palace always gives the army a big welcome. You should see for yourself, I think you will enjoy it."

"I suppose so." Hypatia added, hoping she could learn to love her new home.


	4. Chapter Four

Hypatia was growing restless. She shifted her weight onto her right for what seemed like the umpteenth time. Her hands lazily resting on the balcony ledge, the gentle evening breeze flowing through her blonde hair. A crowd of slaves and staff members had gathered with her on the balcony and the adjacent ones as well. Looking out, she could see the guarded entrance gate of the palace being opened. The Conqueror was set to arrive today with her army. Past the perimeter walls she could see a crowd of citizens gathering to observe the occasion as well. They were kept orderly and held back by some guards. On the large lawn, a man was busy directing young children to plant flowers at various locations. The trail to the entrance of the palace was lined by soldiers. Near the steps, she could see General Atia talking to a quiet, emotionless old man -a captain of some sort, she figured.

Hypatia took a deep breath. Her friend, Darius, had not been wrong about General Atia. When the balding man, Atticus was his name, had her and the other two slaves fitted for proper clothing, they were sent to the general to be presented. The general had warned them that she would not hesitate to hurt or kill them if they stepped out of line -that they were to do exactly as they were told. Hypatia was given the unfortunate task of attending to the general's dressing, hair and face makeup, which she quickly learned, the general took great interest in. The clothes had to be perfectly fitted and the right coloring. Her hair had to be perfect every time -thoroughly brushed, but not so much so as to lose their natural curls. Her lips were to be painted a deep red, with some light blush on the cheeks and mascara on the eyes. The jewellery had to match as well. Her eyebrows were to be shaped to perfection.

Hypatia found all of this rather foolish. Of course, she kept that thought to herself. She could not even conceive that one could spend so much time wasting on such superficial things in life. In her village, women only took care of themselves to this extent for only one day in their entire lifetime -their wedding. Yet, here was a woman who could afford to care for such things every morning, and even several times a day. Out of fear, with her eyes cast down, Hypatia had informed the general that she would make a poor help because she did not know much on the topic.

"You'll learn," The general had repeated Darius's words firmly, "quickly, for your sake, I hope."

Atticus had talked her through most of it. The general's right hand man informed her of the Atia's tastes -the colours, the styles, the combinations. Which type of styling was appropriate given the occasion. Formal attire for celebrations, pure white for temple visits, leather and armour for the garrison and army drills, robes and dresses for general occasions. It was hard to take it all in but Hypatia tried to remember to the best of her ability.

When Atticus had seen her grow overwhelmed and start tearing up, he leaned into her, "Would you rather pleasure her like the other two boys you came with will be instructed to do?"

Hypatia's eyes had grown wide and shook her head ferociously.

"Good. Let's continue."

That had been nearly four days ago. Slowly but surely, Hypatia was getting used to her new found role. She found brushing and clothing her mistress to be the easiest thing to do. Although, she blushed every time the general took off her sleeping robes and waited to be clothed. Her lack of modesty and utter confidence in her body always left the young woman awe struck. The general was not just a painted doll. Underneath the fabric of clothing, the slave woman could see the toned body from years of fighting, and even some faint scars. No doubt her healer had to do an amazing job with the stitching so as to prevent permanent marks from being etched on this woman's perfect body. It was the work on the general's visage that Hypatia found the hardest. Mostly because she did not possess such fine hand movements. Her nervousness at being so close to her mistress only exacerbated the tremble in her hands. On top of that, she was directly facing the general. Often, as she painted the lips, the woman would stare intently at her and Hypatia had to gather all the courage in the world to not make eye contact and continue her task. Unfortunately, she had slipped once -on the second morning. Leaving a trail of red past the lips and onto the general's cheek. In anger, Atia had smacked her hand, causing the fine brush to slip and fall.

"I'm so sorry, my Lady," Hypatia had offered quickly in panic.

"You watch yourself girl or I will have you replaced," The general had spoken in a calm, cold tone.

"Yes, my Lady." She had quickly scrambled to retrieve the brush and wipe the general's face to try again.

At night, Hypatia was able to let go and cry out her frustration as she lay in her pallet at the slave's quarters. She shed tears for herself and the life she was snatched from. She wondered where her parents and brother were, how her village was faring -if it even stood at all. Those thoughts would haunt her at night until she fell asleep. She sent out a thanks to the goddess Athena, at least during the day she was too busy to think about her place in life and wonder about exactly what had happened to her in such a short amount of time.

Looking around, she couldn't find Darius amongst the numerous faces in the crowds. She was hoping to stand beside him and have him elaborate on the numerous characters she had brushed past in her stay at the palace but that would have to be another day. Suddenly, she heard low rumbles and the raised voices of the Corinthians. Excitement was growing and the army was coming. The rumble got closer and closer until she could finally make out a group of men marching, beating on drums. Past them was the cavalry and men with banners beside them. The colours of gold and purple held high for all to see. Behind them were the foot soldiers, marching in unison, their feet stomping the ground and armour clanking as they went. Every so often, figures on horses would lead the divided units. Hypatia figured they were the commanders and squad leaders. They certainly seemed that way by their body language -head held high, shoulders squared out as they sat rather regally atop their horses. The soldiers headed to the right of the palace -towards the garrison while the commanders and other figures entered the palace. Hypatia took note of who the general shook hands with and welcomed and who she seemed to disregard. The old man beside her, however, seemed to nod curtly to everyone that walked past him. The men, and some women, of the army continued to flood into her view. The drums continued to beat, picking up their pace.

Hypatia took great interest in one particular man whose skin was dark in colour. She had never seen people with his features before and was very intrigued. He flashed a smile to the crowd, waving and laughing as he did so. The crowd in turn raised their voices. They seemed to really like him and he seemed rather charming. Hypatia noticed her mistress's lips spread in a smile and see a twinkle in her eye when he appeared in her view. Behind him, a woman on a palomino horse rushed past those in front of her. The soldiers cleared the way for her.

"There she is," Hypatia heard a whispered breath in her right ear.

She looked to see a timid woman smiling back at her. The wrinkles around the corners of her eyes and mouth revealing her old age. She pointed at the woman trotting her horse past the others, "that's the Conqueror."

Hypatia followed the woman's pointed finger back to the figure she had glanced at earlier. Her heart seemed to drop in disappointment. She was expecting a magnificently regal leader. One that would hush the crowds in awe as she made her way past the them. Mankind would collectively hold its breath at the sight of her -her piercing gaze causing even the most articulate of men to become tongue tied. Grown men would drop to their knees begging her for mercy and to join her army, mesmerized by her beauty. But she would curl her lips in a snarl and behead them all personally in disgust. And if children ran past her in play, she would breath fire from her mouth and turn them into ashes -a skill she had learned from her stay with the barbarians behind the Great Wall. The slave had heard those very words from a particular bard that often visited her village. He relayed this particular tale so many times, Hypatia had practically memorized it.

Instead she saw a woman with the obvious signs of tiredness on her face, eyelids drooping but, otherwise, she maintained an emotionless expression. She was slumped over slightly on the horse, her left arm in a sling. Her leathers were tore and dirty. There was a large purple bruise on her left cheek beneath her eye. When she reached the palace steps, several figures rushed to help her off but she had already done so before they managed to get close. One young man took the horse to be stabled and several others started trailing behind the Conqueror like puppies as she walked quickly towards the palace entrance.

The old man nodded his head and even managed a smile, something he had not done for any of the others he had greeted. The Conqueror acknowledged his presence with a nod as well as she quickly walked past him. Hypatia noticed that the general seemed to ignore the Conqueror as she kept her eyes fixed on the dark-skinned man. But more importantly than that, the Conqueror seemed to ignore her.

**Note: Thank you for the reviews. As a reader, and first time writer, I recognize how horrible I am at writing but I hope the story line is at least interesting.**


	5. Chapter Five

"She's not feeling very well," The chief army healer reported to the old woman who started walking beside him.

The two trailed the Conqueror as she made her way quickly and quietly around the palace towards her personal quarters. Along the way, several staff members, guards and slaves greeted her from afar but she largely ignored them. The two found themselves practically sprinting to keep pace behind the warrior woman.

"She's had a headache for most of the aftermath, but insisted we push on to get here on time. I suggest you let her rest before you hound her with any domestic issues," The man continued, "Tell Theodorus he needs to make a strong concoction -one that dulls the pain and helps her sleep. Also, that arm needs a sturdier splint."

The older woman swallowed. This was not good news. There was much at the palace that required the Conqueror's attention, one of which was another raid at the hands of General Atia. Her ill health was only going to put a dent in the schedule, not to mention she would be in a sour mood. The army healer excused himself and headed towards the garrison where many returning soldiers required his attention.

The older woman continued to follow behind the shadow of the dark leader. They were in the stairwell now, heading up the spiraling stony steps. Theodorus, the Conqueror's personal healer, and his two assistants were waiting for them in front of the entrance to the Conqueror's quarters. The guards quickly opened the door to let everyone in. The Conqueror continued to walk down the large hallway inside, her boots echoing off the marbled floor. Yet another set of guards were positioned at the end of the hall, in front of the entrance to her office. They opened it and she went through, heading to the right towards her bed chamber.

Once inside, she wordlessly tugged at her cape, but had trouble getting it off with one good hand. The older woman behind her quietly reached out to unclasp it and took the cape off. The warrior woman quickly lay back onto the bed. Immediately she was surrounded by the healer and his assistants as they examined her for injuries and began to undo the sling. The Conqueror blinked slowly a few times before closing her eyes and finally allowing sleep to overcome her as several pairs of trusted hands continued their ministrations.

* * *

"So, did you talk to her?"

"Urgh," Marcus couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh. They had spent the last few candlemarks since his return re-exploring each other's body. A moment Marcus had been looking forward to since before he left. His delayed return had further ignited the passion between them. It had been an immensely pleasurable evening for them both and Marcus wanted nothing more than to fall into a blissful sleep with his arms wrapped around his lover. They both had been enjoying each other's company, laying in her bed, naked under the covers. Yet, here she was, ruining the moment between them, choosing instead to press him on this one issue.

"I couldn't," He explained, "The rebels were better prepared then we expected. We were scrambling to deal with the situation. She was pissed. I can't bring this up during such a tense situation."

It was Atia's turn to sigh. He was right of course. But she had been bugging him about this issue for so long and he only ever found excuse after excuse for why he couldn't follow through with her request. At times, it would cause her to doubt his love for her.

"Nicolaus came to me again -"

"And of course you refused like you should," Marcus cut her off. The room was filled with silence. "Right?" He turned his head towards Atia, who continued to stare at the ceiling. "You refused him, right?" He repeated more firmly.

"You should take the time listen to him, what he has to say makes sense," she said quietly, knowing an argument was about to ensue between them, as it had the last time.

"Nothing he says makes sense," He retorted, his voice equally as quiet.

"You wouldn't have had to deal with the North if I was in her place!" Atia sat up, shouting in anger. "We would actually have the support of the Nobles if they knew one of their own was ruling over the lands, looking out for their interests. Besides, I don't have anything personal against Rome or its allies, we could be establishing an amazing trade agreement with Egypt right now for their wheat instead of starving like stray dogs!" Atia's bare bosom rose and fell heavily as she caught her breath.

Marcus continued to look at her with a stony face but otherwise remained silent. "I don't want to discuss this issue with you any further, " He finally replied, sitting on the edge of the bed as he began to clothe himself. "Tomorrow, I'm going to inform Brendan of this, and if Nicolaus is smart, he would have already prepared his will."

"Marcus, damn it, listen to me! You need to let go of whatever sense of loyalty you feel towards Xena," Atia pleaded, "Look at the bigger picture, here. This is for the betterment of Greece!

"No!" Marcus spoke through clenched teeth, "You need to stop with this madness! Nicolaus is filling your head with fantasies."

She watched him march past the bed and leave the room, smacking the door in anger. She fell back on the bed in frustration, listening to the sounds of his boots. When they faded she called out for Atticus.

"Yes, my Lady?"

"Bring me the boys," then she murmured to herself, "I could use them right about now."


	6. Chapter Six

"Public...relations," the low voice spoke slowly, trying to capture the feel of the words.

"Yes, that's the term I came up with."

The Conqueror leaned back into her throne, "And what use do I have of this _public relations_?"

"There's two ways to gain the support of the people: give them what they want, which you and I both know is impossible to achieve, or you convince them that what you want is also what they want. That's public relations."

The woman's tanned face distorted in slight puzzlement. She began tapping her foot, growing restless. When she made no move to speak, the man carried on, this time visibly nervous, "You need to spin this war in your favour. Remind the North that you have allowed them much freedom. Should Caesar invade, the Romans will, without a doubt, try to spread their culture instead and that's not what the Nobles want. It's imperative you present yourself as the hero; the only shot Greece has at maintaining its independence."

He waited for a response, but the dark leader remained quiet, the foot continued to lightly tap against the floor. He felt his heart sink, this was not the reaction he was expecting. Out of desperation he spoke on, despite his best judgement, "I...helped Nicolaus secure hold over Eastern Corinth..."

The foot tapping immediately stopped and the Conqueror leaned forward with a smirk on her face, "_You_ helped Nicolaus? Impossible, I hand picked himself myself." Her grin grew knowing she had caught the man in an obvious lie.

The look on the Conqueror's face made the man grow fearful. "Pay the news reader at the square handsomely and it's amazing the kinds of tales he can plant. Throw in a truth every now and then. Nicolaus is a family man. Nicolaus cares for the good of Corinth. Nicolaus would risk his life to save even a peasant child. Nicolaus hates taxes. Nicolaus has years of fighting experience in the army -"

The smirk on the Conqueror's grin faded slowly as the man continued to speak. These were the exact details her advisers had informed her about the regional commander before she had granted him the position. She knew both Leon and Nicolaus were capable but she had went with the latter, largely swayed by the fact that the citizens seemed more receptive towards him. Granting him Eastern Corinth had been one of the least controversial decisions she had made. Her head cocked to the side, "So you manipulated me?"

The man stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth agape at her question. He gulped, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. He wiped his clammy hands against the fabric of his shirt. There was nothing he could possibly say to get himself out of this situation. "Well...," he had to at least try, "It's like this -"

"Job well done." The Conqueror cut him off quickly, deciding she was no longer interested in watching him squirm in fear. Her headache was returning. If this man could have eased Nicolaus into office, no doubt, she could at least entertain his ideas. "You amuse me, little man. What's your name?"

The man was still staring at her, a blank stare on his face, unable to comprehend what had just transpired.

"What's your name?" The woman repeated again, in a deathly low tone.

"Salmoneus!" He responded quickly.

"Well, Salmoneus, we will talk again this evening. In the mean time, Kyrillos will see you to your guest quarters."

She waved her hand, letting everyone in the room know the meeting was finished. She looked toward the man standing on her right. "Good find, Kyrillos," she complimented her adviser.

The man smiled and bowed slightly, "Thank you, my Liege." His heart felt light at her praise. He bit his lip to keep the huge grin off his face as he descended the steps of the dais and headed out of the throne room with Salmoneus.

As soon as they left, the ruler rested her forehead against her hand, pressing her finger deep into the skin, wishing the touch could make the pounding between her temples go away. She had awoken much later than she was used to -nearly two candlemarks past sunrise. Whether it was due to the herbs Theodorus had given her or the fatigue she felt, she was not entirely sure. The Conqueror had abruptly decided in the morning to open her throne room and entertain some petitions. Usually, it was customary for her to have her advisers and security chief fill her in on developments that had occurred while she was gone, but she did not feeling like dealing with Palace politics today. After this, she had a meeting with her army healer and commanders on the condition of the army. Hopefully the rebellion had not set her back too much and she had enough abled men to face Caesar's legionnaires.

In the afternoon was the boar hunt, the usual tribute she offered when she visited the temple of the God of War. Managing that with a broken arm would be interesting. More meetings awaited her in the evening, but hopefully, she would have time to slip into her war room alone and examine a few maps. The Conqueror slowly let out a sigh, it was going to be a long day.

* * *

The Conqueror was growing impatient. It was past afternoon but the sun was still high in the sky, the bright rays hitting the small crowd that had gathered on the Palace steps. She was dressed in pure white robes and brown sandals, with a piece of cloth draped over her head and shoulders in modesty. Her blue eyes staring intently at the men in front of her, watching them place the boar on the pallet they would carry to the temple. Beside her stood General Atia and General Marcus and several army commanders dressed in all white with their heads covered as well in a similar fashion. A crowd of citizens had gathered around the outside gates of the palace all the way towards the temple near the left perimeter of the city -conveniently, only paces away from the palace. Slaves and staff members crowded the balconies and peaked through the windows to observe the event, as they always did.

"Darius," the Conqueror called out, "Tell Palaimon to get dressed, I want him walking with us."

The crowd of army men around her shifted looks with each other. They knew what this meant. Palaimon had earned the Conqueror's good favour with his performance in the battlefield and she would reward him with a place amongst them as they went to honour their patron God. In due time, he would also receive a promotion. The young man quickly rushed inside to bring the officer the good news.

When the boar had been secured and Palaimon had joined the group, they collectively began their march as they always did -with the boar at the front, carried by the four servants. The Conqueror walked behind them, followed by the Generals and commanders. The march was slow but the crowds were quiet, as this was a solemn and sacred event. They continued this way in silence. The Conqueror took the time to scan the faces in the crowd that had gathered, many looked away in fear when she met their gaze. Luckily, the march up the numerous and steep stony steps of the temple went without incident, although that had not always been the case in the past. Often times, there was great difficulty in getting the boar up the steps, even when all four servants had it securely tied down on the pallet they carried. Then again, the herd seemed to be healthier then and the boars bigger. It seemed like even the animals were starving, feeling the effects of the food crisis throughout the Grecian lands.

The guards positioned in front of the entrance of the temple opened the doors to let the gathering in. Once inside, the servants rushed to quickly get the offering on to the platform. The walls of the temple were decorated with various weaponry. Several torches and candles attempted to light up the place but it still maintained a gloomy and dark atmosphere.

The Conqueror stepped off to the side as she saw the others kneel before the boar and clasp their hands in thanksgiving and prayer to their Lord. She noticed Palaimon was looking directly at the statue of the God of War. She quietly approached him, grabbing a handful of his hair and applied pressure downwards. He understood what she was trying to convey to him and lowered his head as he continued with his prayer. Palaimon knew the Conqueror was a devout follower of her patron God and expected her subordinates to bow down to him as well. He had never been religious but understood that if he wanted to continue to impress the ruler, he would have to show loyalty towards Ares and enthusiasm in his worship.

Slowly, the generals and commanders began to exit the temple as they finished. The Conqueror accompanied General Marcus, the last to leave, out of the temple and closed the large wooden door shut. Even before she turned around she knew _he_ was standing behind her. The air seemed to shift as she felt a draft that caused a tingle down her spine. Turning around she saw him. It was Ares, the God of War. He was quietly examining the boar, his hand casually draped over the handle of his sword, which was clasped on the side of his belt.

"A rather small boar, no?" He looked up to meet her gaze, his brown eyes borrowing into her blue ones.

"It's the best I could do, given my condition," The Conqueror tried to raise her splinted arm to prove her point.

"Xena... Xena... Xena," He rolled the name off his tongue several times as he walked towards her. Reaching out, he used his fingers to trace the bruise on her left cheek. She could see the well toned muscles ripple underneath his leather attire. Then, without warning, he smacked her hard using the back of his hand on her injured arm.

Xena let out a yelp of surprise as the waves of pain flowed through the arm. The God of War leaned in close to her. "How many times do I have to tell you to protect your left side?" He said angrily through clenched teeth. Then, for emphasis, he smacked her in the arm again but this time she managed to maintain her stony composure, instead grabbing her arm and trying to rub away the pain. He leaned back and gave her a lopsided grin, letting her know he was in playful mood and did not wish to embody the role of the hard-ass teacher for the moment.

The War God turned around and headed to the offering platform wear he grabbed an apple from a bowl. "So, how was your trip?" he asked cheerfully.

She shrugged, "could have gone better."

"How so?" He bit into the apple and plotted himself casually on top of the offering platform.

"I underestimated their ability to fight, as well as, their numbers." She began to move away from doors to stand closer to him.

"But you took care of it, like you always do," He finished for her, trusted his words rang true.

Xena took in a deep breath, doubtful of his statement. "I've subdued them for now. I'll deal with them appropriately once this Caesar business has been taken care of."

The God of War chucked the apple core into the bowl and stood up. "You keep your eye on the prize, Xena, that's what I like about you."

He approached her slowly, "Caesar is yours, you and I both know that." He was standing in front of her again. He gently lay his hands on her shoulders and kneaded the tense muscles underneath, "Just stay focused awhile longer and it will be all over. I promise you that."

The Conqueror stood still and emotionless, trying not to let her feeling towards Caesar and her past overwhelm her. Her gaze meeting the warm browns of her patron God.

"When you're up for it, we will spar," He said.

She blinked and he was gone. The offering platform had also emptied, as he left with her tribute. The Conqueror headed towards the temple doors and grabbed at the handles but then stopped and decided to head down through the side door into the catacombs. Reaching the bottom of the steps, she could see the familiar narrow hallway in front of her. The walls lit the pathway with torches.

"Arsinoe," she called out in a low tone. She waited a moment. When she felt she had not been heard, she called out again, this time louder, "Arsinoe!"

The meek head of a young woman slowly came into her vision from the side of the end of the hallway. When the woman recognized the Conqueror, she let out an audible sigh of relief and began to walk towards the Greek ruler. Soon it turned into a sprint and she reached the older woman with her hand covering her mouth, trying to hold in her sobs as tears streamed down her face. Unexpectedly, she lightly hit the woman on the arm in peeve.

"Ah, watch the arm!" The Conqueror scolded.

The younger woman tugged the Conqueror closer to one of the torches hanging on the wall to get a good look. She cried out in surprise, "You look awful, Xena! That bruise is so big."

"The fist was big," Xena replied matter-of-factly.

"I was so worried -you said you would be back a fortnight ago."

"Yeah," she said wearily, "well that was before I knew the rebels were a lot stronger than I thought."

"Come, I'll make you some tea and you can tell me all about it," Arsione gently wrapped her arm around Xena's and started to slowly walk with her towards the end of the hallway.

"I can't stay long."

The Conqueror explained all the details to Arsinoe between her sips of tea. The young woman listened intently at how Xena had taken care of the North. How their defeat would cause them to be fatigued and hungry. How their morale was lowered. How Xena had retaliated against their foolish move of burning off the harvest in protest by putting them on food rations. How she had banned travel in the region to control the crowds and keep other possible rebellions from popping up. Xena took the time to explain the matter as clearly as she could, patiently answering all of the woman's questions. She knew it was important for the young woman to understand how to rule over a people.

Afterwards, she sipped her tea quietly as listened to the young woman talk. Staring at her, she noticed the woman's thinning figure. Either she wasn't eating properly or good food was not being delivered to her. She made a mental note to discuss the matter with Darius. Arsinoe looked much different without cosmetics -much better, the Conqueror concluded. As the ruler's visit had been unexpected, the young woman did not have time to fix her appearance. Even her weave had been forgotten and she could finally see the natural cropped, brown hair of the young woman. Her eyes soon began to grow heavy with sleep as Arsinoe droned on. Xena wondered how someone who spent their days hidden in the rooms beneath the temple could possibly have so much to share. A moment later, a hand was shaking her firmly on the shoulder.

"Xena, you said you had to get back soon."

Xena stretched, not realizing she had dozed off. She got up, thanked Arsinoe for the tea and headed back up, the young woman following her. Before she could open the door to enter the large room of the temple, the young woman wrapped her hands around the older woman's waist from behind, hugging her close.

"Next time, I get you for longer."

"Hm." Xena replied and left, knowing it would be a long while before she would be able to see the Egyptian princess again.

**Note: I wanted to quickly get the story to this point to give the readers a better idea of where it's going. From now on, I likely will not update as often, though I will try to make the chapters longer to compensate. Hopefully it's as enjoyable to the reader as it is in my head.**


	7. Chapter Seven

Xena returned swiftly to the private office in her quarters. She shut the door quietly hoping to get some alone time but soon found that her chair was already occupied.

"Xena," Came the hoarse voice from the behind the desk.

"Alti."

The soft sounds of bony jewelry jangling filled the room as Alti slowly rose from her spot and made her way toward the Conqueror. "I hope you don't mind that I took one of your men last night."

"My men?" The warrior woman kept her voice even.

"A foot soldier, I think," Alti elaborated. "I needed another sacrifice and, besides, he was getting close to my territory."

Alti stood to face Xena, staring deeply into the woman's blue eyes. Her lips curled upwards slightly into a slight smile by what she saw. Alti knew that behind the hard, tough warrior exterior of the Conqueror, there lay a hint of fear. Fear of Alti. The shamaness had saved Xena's life, helping to orchestrate the slave uprising in Rome. In doing so, she had delivered the then young and vulnerable Xena from having to endure a humiliating appearance at Caesar's Triumph. This one act had been enough to have Xena ever indebted to her. Alti held great power over the Greek ruler. But, Xena was not a fool. She knew this and had maintained a proper working relationship between her. One that was of give and take. But, as of late, Alti was growing disturbed. Their usually friendly encounters had started to grow tense. Xena was pulling away, conversing minimally, keep her responses short and making excuses for not visiting Alti.

"Next time, I'd appreciate if you asked me rather than informed me of your antics, Alti."

The smile dropped from the shamaness's face. She knew her younger friend had always doubted her abilities but had yet to verbally express it or outright rebuke her. Something had changed between them. Whether it was because the Conqueror was caught up in the looming war ahead or it was more personal, Alti was not quite sure. She slowly began to walk past Xena, stopping at her side to speak into her ear, "My powers are getting stronger. Visit me sometime and I will show you." Her eyes, heavy in kohl, widened in enthusiasm.

The ruler turned to meet her gaze but didn't say anything. The shamaness decided it was time for her exit and reached for the door to leave.

"Welcome back, Xena."

* * *

"And how long exactly has this been going on?"

"I'm not really sure. As far as I can tell, this is the second time he has approached her."

Brendan looked off to the side, lost in thought as his fingers tapped lightly on the surface of the desk. "She's going to be hurt by this, you know," He stated quietly, running his hands over his graying hair.

"Of course, Xena gave him a part of Corinth, no doubt she thinks he favours her." Marcus responded.

He leaned into the chair, watching Brendan's hand ministering his hair. He thought it odd that he didn't notice the patches of white hair before. Brendan was deep in thought, mulling over the information he had received, as always. He was always slow and methodical -a trait the general greatly admired in the older man. It allowed him to fulfill his role as head of security efficiently. Brendan furrowed his eyebrows, as if trying to remember something, the wrinkles on his face on clear display. He was beginning to look his age too, Marcus observed.

"Business or personal?" The security chief finally asked, wondering about the nature of Nicholaus' betrayal.

"I'm not quite sure. I didn't exactly grill Atia about this. I'll try to pry something out of her."

Brendan thought for a long moment again before responding, "You do that and get back to me. I'll inform Xena of this. But I think it's better to play along. He might reveal more players in the game and then, when the time is right, we can deal with all of them all in one sweep."

Marcus took a moment to consider this. It was a good idea but a part of him worried. Atia has already been persuaded by Nicolaus' reasoning. He wondered if prolonging such talks would cause her to seriously entertain the idea. For as long as he had known her, she was never the ambitious type. Having abandoned behind the wealth and comfort of the luxurious life in the North, Atia had traveled the country side in search of adventure and excitement. Luckily, she had found it in Marcus' small band of warriors. Living life on the road, helping villages in need in return for coin.

He remembered when she had told him how much she had enjoyed their simple life. It had given her a chance to view the people she met in a new light. Marcus smiled at the memory. But things were different now. He saw the way she spoke about Nicolaus' proposal -she thought it would be better for the citizens. Perhaps a part of her wanted to re-experience that feeling of fulfillment they had felt on the road . At least that's what Marcus desperately hoped.

Atia was one of the top generals of a successful army now. Power would corrupt her as it always did. He had seen it in Xena but he prayed to the gods he would not see it in the noble woman. Choosing between his closet companion and his lover was not a choice he wanted to make. He knew it was imperative to convince her she was wrong and keep it a secret. If Xena found out, she would not hesitate to rid of all conspirators against her.

Marcus forcibly drew himself out of his thoughts and looked into the face of the security chief, a man he greatly respected. "Alright. I'll keep you updated."

Brendan observed Marcus carefully, noticing that the general seemed bothered. "Alright, so we will go from here. Everything alright?"

Marcus nodded but remained mute as he rose to stand.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" Brendan offered.

"Not that I can think of," Marcus lied, offering a quick smile, giving a parting nod and heading quickly out of the office.

Brendan took Marcus at his word. He had no reason not to. He had known Marcus for possibly longer than a decade. At first they had witnessed the horrors at Caesar's palace, then escaped into Greece to live life on the road. It was one of the most difficult decisions Brendan had ever made in his life -to betray his commander, to abandon his homeland and live out the rest of his life in enemy territory. Leaving with his wife and very few of their belongings, they had hoped to live peacefully away from Caesar's rule. Brendan had grown tired of the way the Roman dictator dealt with prisoners, directly witnessing the consequences as a dungeon guard. Not to mention, he strongly disagreed with him in politics, having been a life long supporter of the Republic.

It was ironic to think that now his duty was to protect a _Greek_ ruler instead. But not just any Greek, rather the very woman Caesar had taken pleasure in torturing. The same woman whose village he had burned and whose family he had murdered. But Brendan knew he would always support Xena, even if he disagreed with her at times. He had known her for so long, seeing her grow and mature before his eyes. For this reason, he felt quite paternal towards he, having a strong need to protect her. As chief of security, he knew he would do whatever it took to keep her safe.


	8. Chapter Eight

It was only a few days later that Hypatia was able to run into her friend Darius again.

"How did you find all the festivities?" Darius had asked her.

"They were really interesting, I really enjoyed them!" Hypatia had embellished the truth, hoping to impress Darius.

They had spent a long moment in silence. Hypatia had watched intently as Darius poured his focus on the scroll in front of him. After fidgeting for a long while, curiosity had finally gotten the best of her and she had inquired about scroll.

"Oh, I'm learning how to read and write."

"But...how will you have time for that?" Hypatia had asked, confused as to how a former slave could have such lofty ambitions and especially while working for the Conqueror.

"I have all the time in the world, not like I'm needed around here anyways," He had replied bitterly.

"Don't you have work around here to take care of?"

Darius had shook his head sadly, "I'm just a friend of Xena's. At least, that's all she sees me as."

Hypatia had swallowed then. It was obvious from his tone he held some kind of affection for the ruler.

"How did you become her friend? I mean...she seems intimidating."

Darius had chuckled at the thought. "Hmmm...let's see. I was a slave when she rode through my Master's town. She gave them an ultimatum, start producing wheat and answer to her or she would raze the village to the ground. We already knew she was coming and agreed right away at the advice of the neighbouring villages. I heard they were heading to Athens and I've always wanted to go to the Academy of Performing Bards to study so I ran away in the middle of the night to where her army had set up camp. I begged one of the soldiers on night watch to let me see her and he finally did."

Hypatia had been on the edge of her seat, eyes wide listening intently to the tale. These were not the ones the traveling bard would weave anytime soon. "And what happened when you saw her?" Her eyes had made contact her Darius', begging for him to continue.

"I asked her to borrow enough gold to pay for my schooling and that I would pay it back with interest when I became famous..."

"...There's no way she agreed to that, did she?" Hypatia interrupted.

"I told her I could tell her stories on the way to Athens. Every night, I told her one. She liked them, said it helped her sleep." Darius stopped when he had heard Hypatia laughing.

"Maybe it was because they were so boring," She had laughed at her comment but stopped when she saw a look of hurt cross the young man's face.

"She gave me the gold when we got to Athens, you know," Darius had responded sternly," She said I _earned_ it."

"But, you are just now learning to read..."

"I spent maybe a few days there. I was miserable and alone. I missed her company dearly. So I left and ran back to the army," He had leaned in close and spoke in barely a whisper, "She won't admit but I think she missed me too because she was happy to see me. And she didn't ask me for all that gold I had just wasted. If I can write a play -it'll be about her. It will be fantastic! Right up there next to Oedipus! All the nobles would brawl with each other just to find a seat to watch." Darius had said with a dreamy look in his eyes.

It had been a few weeks since that day. Hypatia had decided she wanted to help her friend in his aspirations and offered the information that she knew how to read. The news had excited Darius and he had at once insisted she meet him in the library and teach her at night when her duties were done. Hypatia had been nervous about this endeavor but soon learned that Darius indeed had a very powerful friend in the Conqueror. She was given permission by Atia, at the Conqueror's insistence, and the scribe to use the library along with Darius.

And so they spent every night for about a candlemark or two in the dark, dimly lit library together. Hypatia soon found herself looking forward to meeting Darius each night She was patient in teaching him as he struggled greatly. She looked forward to all the gossip he offered and they often found themselves laughing at the stories. Only a couple of times over the weeks had she managed to catch the shadowing trails of the ruler she had come to know so intimately about from Darius' tales. Yet seeing her, still sent a shiver through her spine. She regretted insulting him, realizing that, though he could not read well, he could orate a story with great ease. The young blonde woman would listen intently, her eyes focused on the expressive faces of her friend. On his warm eyes, his full lips, and well defined jaw. Sometimes, when they made eye contact, an unusually ticklish feeling would pass by in her abdomen. Sometimes she would see the way General Atia responded to General Marcus' presence, how much of a taming effect it had on the stern noblewoman. She would see them at times kiissing, at times simply holding hands and speaking affectionately to each other in low voice and it made her jealous. At night when she lay on her pallet, having returned from her late night sessions at the library, she would wonder what it would be like to hold Darius' hand and kiss him. At times she found herself praying to Athena, hoping for some clarity to light her path. Then she would chide herself, remembering when Darius had told her how much the Conqueror despised the Goddess of Wisdom, as if the dark ruler could read her mind.

* * *

"You still haven't talked to her have you," Marcus stopped walking at the sound of his lover. He signed heavily, letting her see his shoulders droop. She knew very well how much he hated this topic of discussion.

"No, I have not." He turned around to meet her gaze, this time not offering excuses.

To his surprise, she did not lash out or get angry like she usually did. Instead she walked up to him calmly, he could see tears forming in her eyes.

"I've haven't been feeling great for a few mornings, Marcus," She said firmly through clenched teeth, trying to not let her voice crack as she tried to ignore her stinginess she felt in her constricted throat. "The healer suspects I might be pregnant. Now you better shape up and make a decision because I refuse to be handled like this!"

She turned around and walked to her quarters, ignoring Marcus as he cried out his name several times.

Marcus was still shocked at the news. He had not expected this. They had always been careful, knowing that, with the current state of affairs, bringing a child into the world was not the best thing. But now, Atia was pregnant. He had wanted a family badly, and now the Gods were giving him a chance again. He couldn't screw this up. Atia was right, he needed to shape up and inform Xena. Otherwise, he would spend eternity waiting for the right moment to tell her. He decided to march right up to Xena's quarters, knowing she was likely just finishing her lunch.

"Come in," The general heard her voice call out when he knocked on her office door.

He stepped in noticing that she was slightly taken aback when his figure came through the doorway. Of course, he generally never disturbed her at this time.

"Marcus, anything I can do for you?" The Conqueror asked, slightly worried. The war was looming and she had finalized most of her battle plans. Seeing the general, and with an anxious look on his face, made her wary. He watched her as she took a still sealed scroll and threw it in the fireplace behind her, knowing full well it had likely come yet again from the Amazon Queen.

"Xena, I need to talk to you about something important," Marcus said slowly, in a low tone as he sat on the chair in front of the Conqueror's desk.

He sat in silence for a long while, focusing on the wildly erratic heartbeat. Looking down, he noticed how sweaty his palms had become and wiped them on his pants. Gathering all the courage he could muster, he decided to just get this over with.

"I would like your blessing to...marry Atia."

Xena blinked, her lips slightly parted. A part of her was relieved it was not regarding the war and a part of her was utterly shocked into silence. She leaned back into her chair, "What?"

"We love each other and we wish to make that public."

The Conqueror held his gaze, her face emotionless, simply blinking at him.

"You are my closest friend. I want your approval of course, I would not do this without you."

They sat in silence. He understood she was likely extremely surprised. Marcus and Atia had hid their relationship quite well. He suspected that only the slaves and a handful on their closest advisors and assistants likely knew about the whole affair.

"No," A stern voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"No? What do you mean 'no'?" He asked unable to comprehend her response.

The raven-haired woman shrugged. "You asked for my approval and I am refusing you. It's as simple as that."

"Why? I don't understand..."

"I don't think it will reflect well on me," The warrior woman replied, concluding that this is exactly what Salmonus would have told her.

"Reflect well on you? How so?" Marcus heart dropped, a growing feeling of dread began to crawl up his skin.

"What will the citizens think if they know of this?" She began to raise her voice. "Do you think they feel safe knowing the generals of an army that is supposed to be protecting them are more worried about each other rather than what's happening on the battlefield?"

Truth be told, Marcus had not thought that far ahead. But even so, he found her reasoning quite weak.

"Xena," He spoke in a calm, quite tone, "Does this have anything to do with our past?"

Xena turned to meet Marcus' gaze, shocked he would ever say such a thing. Her eyes narrowed, "Marcus, do you really think me that petty?"

"Well I don't know what to think!" He got up in anger. He headed towards the door and opened it, intending to leave but then turned around again, "But I do know this, I will marry the woman I love."

"No you will not." Xena replied sternly.

He left in anger, smacking the door as hard as he could. Knowing her, he knew how stubborn she could be and that continuing to argue with her would be useless. He would have to take more drastic measures. He stalked down the hallways in such anger that he didn't notice when he accidentally bumped shoulders with Alti as she headed to meet Xena.

Xena leaned back in her chair trying to catch her breath. She was still shocked at the revelation. To her knowledge, Marcus had never showed interest in Atia. A part of her was hurt. He was her closest friend, yet had purposefully kept this hidden from her. At least, she felt reassured that her answer had been the right one. Her mind was reeling and she tried to remember the words the War God had said to her. She just had to stay focused awhile longer. Unfortunately, she was soon to learn, that another distraction was awaiting her.

"Xena," she groaned inwardly at the raspy voice.

Alti had let herself in, as usual, of course. Xena straighted in her chair, "what do you want?" she let the annoyance in her voice show.

Alti flinched at the Conqueror's reaction. She really was not liking the disrespectful act the warrior woman had been playing out lately. She would get to the bottom of this soon, but for now, she decided to ignore it. Besides, she had more important and exciting affairs to attend to. "As you know, my powers are growing. And I have started to sense an Amazon presence in your palace, Xena. Would you happen to know who it is. I need an Amazon sacrifice."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"Oh come on," there was a pleading tone in the parched voice, "a citizen...a slave...a soldier, perhaps?" Alti offered, hoping to stir Xena's memory.

"No. You can ask Atia about the slaves, but I'm certain there aren't any. Now, if you will leave me alone, I have work to do," the ruler rose, indicating to the shamaness that the conversation was over even before it really started.

Alti observed the woman get up, concluding that something was really bothering her. She decided she ask Atia if she had any knowledge about the issue. "Come to visit tomorrow at lunch," Her hoarse voice had a tone of finality.

When Alti left, Xena sat back down in mental exhaustion. She knew the witch had been bugging her to visit so she decided it was best to just get that over with tomorrow and then maybe that would satisfy Alti enough to not bother her until after the war. Her mind began to go over all the problems vying for her attention, trying to prioritize what was important. Suddenly, a thought entered her mind. Her heart dropped at the realization as she sat forward in her chair. Alti was right. There _was_ an Amazon in the palace. One she had jailed and forgotten about for years.


	9. Chapter Nine

The tax collector droned on but Xena didn't hear a word he spoke. Her mind was still reeling at the realization. How could she have forgotten about the girl? No doubt she was probably a young woman now, having reached womanhood behind the four walls of her confinement.

_What do you think of me now, Io? Do you finally see the monster that I am?_ Xena thought disgustingly to herself. The feeling of guilt and regret engulfed her almost immediately. Emotions that had started to linger with her a lot longer than others, it seemed. She had met the girl nearly seven years ago, when Xena was taking her army to settle in Corinth. As her army had marched around Amazon territory, the young redhead had practically thrown herself in front of Xena's horse, begging Xena to take her to Corinth. Her young eyes were full of curiosity to see the world past the Amazonian treeline. _So much like your Queen_, Xena thought.

Something about her audaciousness had gotten to Xena, and not knowing why, the older woman had agreed. By then, she was just another face of admirers for the Conqueror -singing her praises, her eyes full of puppy love for the warrior woman.

Though the girl's cheery attitude and naivety had stirred something within the Conqueror -Xena had felt happier than not in those days, she could see the Amazon Queen in the girl. But her advisers would have none of it, they were suspicious of the girl, thinking she had been sent as a spy and their leader was becoming careless around her. The seed of doubt had been planted, and when Ares insisted she rid of her, Xena finally came to her senses and showed her true colours, jailing the girl when she refused to cooperate. Her intentions had been to deal with her at the next prisoners hearings but somehow she had been forgotten.

"Enough!" The Conqueror yelled. The tax collector jumped, startled by her command and dropped several scrolls in the process. "I'll deal with this later," Xena stood up and walked away, knowing she needed to clear her mind.

She made her way to her chambers and took a side door up a spiralling staircase to the empty, hidden room above. This was her place of solitude, where she came to practice and spar with her mentor. She looked out from the windows but seeing some young children playing outside in the courtyard only irritated her more. She made her way towards the staff in the corner and began to practice some moves. Soon, Xena had developed herself into a sweat as she worked her upper body, the only sounds were of the staff ripping through the air.

"I see your arm has healed nicely."

Xena stopped immediately at the sound of a deep, rich voice filled the room but didn't turn around.

"How about we spar, hmm?"

She heard him grab a staff lying on the floor and his quite footsteps as he approached her. She turned around just in time to block the blow with her own staff. They went at this for a candlemark. The Conqueror sufficiently held her own at the War God's advances, but that is all she seemed to . doing. The spark in her eyes that told him she was totally engrossed in the activity was missing. As he watched her sit down to finally catch her breath he asked, "Something wrong? You seem...off."

As Xena deepening her breathing, she wondered if she should tell him about Io. But she knew she couldn't, he would think her weak for having spared the girl's life. She instead decided to side step the issue, "I'm going to have to start heading out soon."

Ares couldn't help but smirk at how dedicated she was. One of the many things he respected about her. He approached her, offering her a hand up, "And Caesar is within your grasp, Xena."

She took his hand and let him help her swiftly to her feet with little effort on his part. She was inches from his face, "I kept my promise to you, didn't I?"

She looked away. Normally, when the topic was brought up, Xena always showed appreciation. But today, her eyes were full of doubt, he could sense it. Today her thoughts were less on Caesar and more on the young babe she was forced to part from. She moved to back away from him but he grabbed her by the shoulders, moving his hands to hold her face until she looked at him. Usually he kept away from her until she had sorted her emotions out again when she was like this. Dealing with emotional matters was not his expertise, but he knew he couldn't let her slip from his grasp. She was his most important warrior. The Conqueror had erected his temples in all the lands she took and brought thousands of worshippers under his fold. She had loyally stayed true to her words and he had no doubt in his mind that after the war with Rome's marching army, she could spread the boundaries of Greece further if she wanted. And that's where he came in -to keep her wanting.

"You'll have what you've always wanted Xena. Caesar will return to Rome with his tail between his legs. Then you'll see what true power is. The nobles will fight each other to fall at your feet. Chin will regret kicking you out." She grasped his forearms in an attempt to get free. Painful memories of the wise woman she met in the Far East entering her mind. He let go of her and backed away, knowing now was not the time to press the issue. He began walking backwards as he spoke, "It is only a little while longer that you will remain a childless mother Xena..."

His words echoed through the empty room as he disappeared. The raven-haired woman looked out the window again, the children were still playing. Seeing them caused an immense heartache as she clutched at her chest to try and stop the maternal emotions. Now was definitely not the time to have this attack yet again, she had too much to get done.

* * *

"Have you ever thought about telling her?" Hypatia cut Darius off just as he got to another exciting tale about the time that general Marcus and half the army had fallen deathly ill by drinking spoiled water and their valiant commander had come to the rescue, figuring out the cause _and_ the cure.

"Huh?" Darius was perplexed at Hypatia sudden question.

"You obviously love her. You should tell her." Hypatia spoke in a bitter tone, slightly jealous, wishing Darius looked at her in the same light he seemed to look at the Conqueror.

"No, I could never do that." He spoke with a nervous smile, embarrassed that she knew.

"Why not? What's stopping you?" Hypatia pressed on, curious about his feelings.

Darius tried to search his mind but found he didn't really have a good argument. "She will think differently of me."

"Isn't that what you want?"

"No, I mean she will dislike me. She doesn't see me in that light."

"You will never know until you ask her."

Fantasies swirled in Darius' mind. He had in fact thought about the many ways he would tell Xena how much she meant to him. Sometimes, she would be sitting in the front row of the opening night of his play, watching a romantic story play out. At the end, Darius would show up to take a bow and reveal his source of inspiration for the tale. Other times, they would simply be lying in bed, her head in his lap as he told her a story, just like they used to do on the road, and he would lean down and leave a chaste kiss on her forehead just as she fell asleep. At times, he thought it too intimidating to talk to her and wondered about leaving a scroll with a poem for her to read. But of course, he didn't know how to write, yet. He wondered if Hypatia could make the idea a reality.

"Do you think I should tell her?" He asked doubtfully.

"Of course you should! How many tales do you know about love? They all require the lover to reveal what's in his heart to his beloved!" Hypatia tried earnestly to persuade Darius.

It seemed to be working as she saw his eyes light up with possibilities, "Maybe I should write a poem, you can help me..."

"No, don't do that. Keep it simple. Just go up to her today and tell her what's in your heart." The blonde suggested.

"Today? I can't do that. She has so much to take care of. I should wait until after the war..."

"What if she doesn't come back?" Hypatia blurted.

A look of complete terror passed over Darius. It was something he had never considered. His eyes were wide open and his mouth agape, looking as if he had seen a spirit. It scared Hypatia so much that she began to profusely apologize for what she had said. He seemed to recover slightly but she could tell the thought still bothered him.

"That's why you gotta tell her now. If you keep procrastinating, you'll never achieve anything."

Darius listened intently to her words, but his mind was elsewhere. Hypatia was right. At some point, Xena would leave him and he had never thought about it. What would occur if that happened sooner than later? He was so depended on her. She took care of everything for him. He knew he wasn't much liked by many in the palace because of his place of privilege, surely, they would come after him if she was no longer there to protect him. Then again, if she died, maybe it would be better if he died because he couldn't comprehend how he would live without her. He knew he would deeply regret if they parted from each other.

"So, you think I should tell her now?" He looked up hesitating in his words, unsure of what to do.

"Yes! Of course! Tell her right now, this very moment. Just work up the nerve and do it, you won't regret it," She began to shake him in excitement.

He stood up from his seat, adrenaline pumping through his veins at her enthusiasm. "Okay, I'll do it" He said, almost as if trying to please her. She squealed in delight as he saw her stalk off in his daze.

Darius made his way to the Conqueror's quarters. He was deaf to the happenings around the palace, choosing to focus instead on the rush of blood he felt in his ear. His heart beat wildly. Hypatia was right, he _should _tell her. Otherwise, who was he to talk about the tales of love when he never really experienced it? He made his way towards her office but hesitated when his hand rested on the handle. Turning around instead to a narrow hallway towards his humble living quarters, deciding to wear his most pristine toga. One that Xena had gifted him when he had reached manhood. He had yet to find a special occasion to wear it, deciding now was the best time. He took his time wearing the toga, partly to try to calm himself down. He put combed his hair back away form his face and then walked towards her office again.

"How do I look?" He asked the guard standing in front of the door.

"Fine." The guard answered, confused as to why he was being asked such a question.

"Good." Darius stated and made his way into the office. His heart beat erratically as he opened the door but returned to normal, a feeling of relief almost flooding him to find the room empty. He headed towards her bed chamber, the pulsing in his ears getting louder and his heart thumping hard once again. Opening the door, he again found it empty except for the chambermaid, Helen, who was cleaning the room. She smiled as she looked up at him. He opened his mouth to begin asking her where the Conqueror was when the side door opened and Xena made her way into the room. She grabbed a towel nearby and began to wipe it over her sweaty face when she saw Darius staring at her.

"Darius, did you want something?" She asked in her husky tone. He could tell her voice was thick with emotion and she was trying her best to not let it show.

_This is it, _Darius thought. "Your love" he blurted out, almost without thinking.

He watched as Xena took the towel and wiped the back of her neck, speaking without hesitation, "You already have it." She turned his back on him to head for a bath, motioning to Helen to get the water.

"No," He called out after her then in a small voice said, "I mean...I love you."

He watched her immediately stop mid stride and turn to face him, her stoic gaze burrowing into his. She took slow, deliberate steps towards him. Darius tried to keep his gaze but grew fearful. He immediately began to regret what he said. He tried once again to look at her when she was only a step away from him. He didn't see the slap coming, it was so hard and quick, the sound of her hand hitting his cheek resounded in the room. Helen looked on in horror. She had always known Darius admired Xena and had wished for him to reveal it but was surprised at Xena's reaction.

Darius held his painful, reddening cheek, rubbing it -a look of utter shock on his face. For the first time in his life, he felt scared of her, not knowing what she would do to him. She kept staring at him, her face still unreadable.

"You didn't have to hit me," He said in a quiet voice. The tears freely falling from his eyes. He was hurt that she had rebuffed him, but evem more that she had hit him, something she had never done before.

"You are like a brother to me." She scolded him, her voice even but with a hint of anger

He dropped to his knees at her statement, sobbing.

She looked down at him for a moment, surprised at the depth of his emotions. Xena turned around and told Helen to get the bathwater once again. Darius got up and ran out of the room, weeping loudly and openly as he left. Xena shook her head and continued towards the bath chamber. As she passed by, Helen hesitatingly used her hand to lightly touch the Conqueror's.

"You didn't have to slap him," she said in a small voice full of compassion.

The Conqueror looked at the mother-like figure for a moment but turned her gaze away to look forwards when she saw the sorrow on the old woman's face. "He's out of his mind." She said confidently.

"But you didn't have to rebuke him like that. You know how much he adores you." Helen's responded in a soft voice then squeezed Xena's hand slightly and left to go get the bathwater.

Xena closed her eyes for a moment, squeezing them as the words echoed in her mind, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to spill out. She clutched her chest again as the feeling of guilt yet again engulfed her. It seemed no matter how hard she tried, violence was still her only response.

**Note: Thank you for the reviews!**


	10. Chapter Ten

It was nighttime when he stepped into her chambers. He could see his dear friend out in the balcony, the moonlight outlining her proud cheekbones. Marcus saw worry and tiredness etched on her face. The Conqueror was staring out at the moon as she often did when thinking about her son. Knowing she was in a mood of self-hatred, Marcus decided to press his luck, he was a desperate man and maybe she would listen to him in this state.

He quietly made his way out into the balcony, the gentle summer breeze a welcoming change to the sweaty, humid barracks.

"Xena."

She didn't turn around but shifted her head slightly towards his direction in acknowledgement. He positioned himself next to her, both of them looking out at the night sky.

"It seems that Nicolaus isn't alone. He told Atia a few weeks ago that she'll have some support. Darphus, Astinos, Palaemon, Artemenisa..."

"The dungeon master?" Xena turned to him at the mention of the last name.

"Yeah."

All the other names had been regional leaders in or adjacent to the lands around Corinth. But Artemenisa worked in the palace itself. Xena found that odd, as this was a woman she hardly visited or conversed with. It made her realize Nicolaus was onto something a lot bigger than she was suspecting.

"We have good reason to believe thus far these are the only ones involved -and their lackeys, likely."

"What did he promise them?"

"More land, direct control. For Artemenisa, a more dignified position. No doubt they think they will live as kings if the nobles give Corinth support."

Xena studied her hands resting on the railing, "Did he say anything about his plans?"

"They plan on riding off the back of your success, letting you take care of Caesar first."

Xena mulled over the statement in her mind for awhile. What had Ares said to her? If she won, the nobles would likely see her might and submit to her. Isn't that what Salmoneus had stated as well?

"Fools," she whispered quietly, "No one will give them support after the war."

"Do you want this taken care of now?" Marcus asked.

"No, I'm tired now." The Conqueror pinched the bridge of her nose, "I'll let Brendan know in a few days."

They stood in silence for a long while, enjoying each other's company as they always did. It was quiet out, most citizens had already retired to their homes. An owl's hooting could be heard from far away. Xena's tired voice broke the silence as she studied the stars, "Is there another name I should know about?"

"What do you mean?" Marcus was perplexed.

She turned to look at her friend, meeting his warm gaze, "Atia, perhaps?"

"No! Of course not!" Marcus responded abruptly, making it seem as if he was trying to cover for the noble woman.

The Conqueror looked away, a mark of disappointment on her face -she thought he was lying. Marcus brought his hand up to grasp her forearm causing her to turn towards him again.

"Xena," His gaze lingered on hers, "believe me." Letting her arm go, he continued, "I know Atia and you are not close, but she wouldn't do this because she knows she will lose me too in the process."

"Hm." The Conqueror seemed satisfied by the answer.

While they were on the subject, Marcus figured now was as good a time as any to bring up the issue, "Xena, I was wondering...if you have changed your mind about what we talked about."

"What did we talk about," She asked with disinterest.

The general could feel anger slowly creeping up from inside him. She knew exactly what he was referring to but was purposefully feigning ignorance. She could be so extremely selfish at times! He had spent the last two candlemarks discussing with Brendan about the security changes they would make to ensure the Conqueror was safe, yet she couldn't even be bothered to grant him a simple wish. Keeping his voice even, he responded, "About my marriage."

"Did you not hear me the last time, Marcus?" She snapped, "No means no."

He tugged at her elbow until she was facing him, just breaths from his face, "I find your reasoning to be weak," he said through clenched teeth.

"That's the thing about ruling, Marcus -it doesn't matter what you think. My command is to be obeyed." She rasped in a deathly, low tone.

"I'm your friend Xena, I'm not just a -"

"You are my subordinate!" Xena blurted out, cutting Marcus off. He pulled his hand away in silent shock. She immediately regretted her words, chiding herself. Of course she had not meant them. It simply bothered her greatly how much he loved Atia. Marcus could see a hint of remorse in her piercing blue eyes. He knew her long enough to read her face, her body language and understood her proneness to outbursts. He looked down at the stoned floor and tried to swallow his anger, knowing her ego would prevent her from apologizing and he would have to be the bigger person.

"Xena," He looked up at her again with defeat in his eyes, "I'm a desperate man. Don't do this. What have I ever asked you for? Just let me marry her, please."

He waited for an answer but the Conqueror looked away.

"I'll do something crazy if you won't let us. I'll take my men and leave. You can't defeat Caesar with your own men," His tone was full of despair but determination as well.

Xena furrowed her eyebrows at his statement, unable to comprehend it. "You would do all that just for a woman you love?!"

Marcus' eyes widened and his mouth fell open. He was shocked that she could not understand where he was coming from. He spread his arm out over the balcony, "Isn't that why you did all of this?!" He watched her gaze follow his arm as he swept it from side to side, looking out over the city of Corinth. "Because you love your son?"

Xena straightened slightly at the statement. Ashamed, she looked away again and whispered softly, "I hate Caesar. That's why I did this."

Marcus placed his hands on her shoulders offering her comfort, "No, Xena. Don't confuse these two emotions -it will change your intentions if you do."

Xena pursed her lips, his advice was already a couple of years too late. "I've killed many to get to Rome, Marcus. I don't think they," she nodded in the direction of the houses, "will appreciate it if I told them I was doing it out of love. Hatred, now that, they can understand."

She was looking directly at Marcus again, her eyes urging him to come up with a counter argument, which she was certain did not exist. Marcus stood there quietly meeting her gaze, his hands still grasping her shoulders.

"I don't know what you see in me, Marcus. I can assure you it's not there."

"It is, Xena!" He shook her shoulder slightly. "You just have to fight for it."

The general let his hands drop and moved a few paces away. "So, how about it, huh?"

_Just have to fight for it...just have to fight for it_, the words echoed in Xena's mind. She could sense her heartbeat growing powerful as it picked up its pace. Now was her chance. A tingle raced up her spine at the thought. What was it an old friend had told her once? One small deed was all it took to get back on the right path. Marcus was her closest friend. He was right -he had never asked her for anything before. But she had asked him for a lot. And he had always given of himself. Surely she could do this one small favour for him. It would cost her nothing and mean everything to him. The thought disgusted her. Why did Atia of all people mean the world to Marcus. Was he really willing to betray her for that spoiled noblewoman? Her heartbeat continued to beat loudly. _One small deed...one small deed_.

"Hm?" Marcus could see Xena was deep in thought and tried to bring her out of it, "How about it?" he repeated.

_Oh Gabrielle, your one small deed is too heavy for me,_ Xena thought before facing Marcus to give her answer: "No."

* * *

"Xena? Have you ever thought about what you will do if you don't win?"

It was early in the morning as the birds chirped outside. It was otherwise hard to tell the time of day as the light of the torches bounced off the walls of the catacombs. Xena thought about the question as she sat on the edge of Arsinoe's bed, but the young princess' light caressing on the back of her arm was distracting her. She had decided late in the night to come visit Arsinoe, not knowing if she would be able to find the time again before the battle and not wanting to deal with the problems around the palace. She had fallen asleep as the young woman told Xena the story of the Egyptian Gods at the ruler's request. Much like Darius, her gentle voice had lulled her to Morpheus' realm.

"Kill myself." The Conqueror replied.

Arsinoe stopped her caresses and held her arm tightly as she propped herself onto her elbow, "You wouldn't!"

"Of course I would!" Xena replied angrily, "I would rather die on my own terms than be crucified by him."

Arsinoe relaxed her grip in agreement.

"If you are smart, you will do the same thing," Xena faced the girl, "No doubt, they will raze this temple to the ground."

"This is all becoming so real," Arsinoe spoke quietly.

"It's war girl, what did you expect, glamour?!" Xena berated her. Her impatience and angers towards Marcus spilling onto the young princess, "None of your makeup or your weaves can protect you from the reality of war. You have to know how to deal with it."

A look of hurt crossed Arsinoe's face. She didn't appreciate being insulted by the older woman, knowing how much Xena disliked her engrossing interest in beautifying herself. The young woman spoke in a whisper, "I don't want you to die."

Xena was taken aback by the earnest tone as she spoke the words. The young princess did not even care about her own life but rather Xena's. _Am I the only one incapable of compassion towards another?,_ Xena thought. She saw the fear in the young woman's eyes. Xena felt an urge to comfort the princess but didn't know what she could possibly say or do. "Just be ready." The Conqueror spoke quickly and got up from her place on the bed, hurrying out. Arsinoe cried out after her, pleading for Xena to turn around and come back but the older woman did not do so. Tears filled the young woman's eyes. This was not the type of goodbye she had imagined.

* * *

It was lunch time and, as promised, Xena decided to visit Alti. The shamaness' hut was situated in a small clearing on the edge of the thick woods behind the palace. Xena stood beside Alti, waiting as the witch closed her eyes and performed a ritual in front of her, attempting to show the ruler her powers.

After leaving the temple, Xena had spent most of her time in the war room, finalizing the battle plans. Her advisers had urged her to get in contact with the Amazons for safe passage of the army through their grounds. This would save them three days time from veering around the rough terrain around Amazonian land, given the Conqueror enough time to choose an advantageous spot to position her army against Rome. She knew her advisers were right, but she had never opened any line of communication with the Amazons, always choosing instead to burn any messages the Queen would send.

"My Liege, you should not demand. We must be more tactful than that. Ask the Queen as a request, it will be better received," one of her advisers had offered.

"The Amazons are weak. They are in no position to refuse. If they say 'no', they will be overrun by Rome or me. I don't need to request anything," she had retorted.

"Of course not. But allow them their dignity and maybe this can be the start of a good relationship." Another adviser had urged.

"Huh, what do I need the Amazons for?" Xena had stated, suddenly thinking back to the memories of the short time she had spent with the tribe. Truthfully, they had been some of the few enjoyable moments in her life. With a slight change of heart, and knowing this was a petty topic to argue over, she had finally conceded, "Fine, but have Kyrillos write out the request on my behalf instead."

Her advisers had looked at each other, wishing she had chosen to sign the message personally but, at least, she had given them something to work with.

Xena sighed. The woman next to her kept still, her eyes closed as her mouth silently chanting litanies. Xena waited a moment longer, her hands crossed across her chest. She smirked at Alti's disappointing display, "I haven't got all day, you know." she taunted.

She turned to Alti but the woman continued her silent chanting. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and looked ahead as the chanting from her lips slowly grew louder and louder. Xena looked forwards towards where Alti was looking but saw only the hut in the clearing and the woods ahead of them. She looked around trying to see the target of Alti's gaze but couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. Xena heard a sound from behind her. The ground shifted slightly, causing the ruler to look down. Beside Alti, the ground began to crack open and large roots emerged. Alti's chanting grew louder until Xena could finally hear it, but could not understand the words spoken. Xena followed the roots towards the large redwood tree it belonged to. Losing its stability, the gigantic tree began to tip, utterly astonishing Xena.

Alti's continued to look ahead and her chants grew louder as she squinted trying to maintain her concentration. She could feel herself straining and the mental exhaustion began to set in, as it often did when she used her powers. However, she was determined to prove to her warrior friend that her powers were real and a force to be reckoned with. The large tree shook until it had finally dropped to the ground with a loud thud, causing several crows to fly away in fright. Alti dropped to her knees in exhaustion. A huge grin snaked its way on her face, as she turned towards Xena ready to return the taunts. Her smile immediately dropped when she found the space next to her to be empty. Turning back she could see the last remain of the Conqueror running up the wooded hill towards the palace.

Xena continued to run as fast as she could, not stopping until she was reunited with her bodyguards again. Jumping atop her warhorse, Argo, she urged the horse on and rode hard towards the palace. Her body was shaking at what she had just seen. Alti's powers were certainly real. She had seen these abilities before in Chin, when her Asian teacher had shattered vases with her mind. But to bring down an entire gigantic redwood tree? She wondered what Alti would do to her?

"Yah!" Xena shook the reigns urging her horse on, looking back to see if Alti was behind her, relieved to see her bodyguards trailing behind.

Xena couldn't let the witch gain any more powers, she was becoming far too dangerous. She had to get Io out of the dungeon and fast. She would have to take her some place safe. Xena's heart lurched at the realization that she knew exactly where that was: the Amazons.


	11. Chapter Eleven

There would be no rest for the Conqueror, however. As soon as she returned to her office to gather a few things, a solider rushed in, without knocking and fully out of breath.

"Conqueror! Brandon is asking for you, he says it's an emergency!"

Xena's heart leapt in her throat at the urgent request, wondering what it could be, "Did he say what's wrong?"

"He's wondering why you've deployed Marcus with his soldiers to the outside borders of the city so soon."

For a moment, the Conqueror felt her self falling at the revelation. Her blood rand cold. _Marcus, you bastard! _She was shocked to her core, unable to comprehend Marcus would seriously follow through on his threat.

"Tell Brandon to secure the palace, I want twenty of my best men and get me a horse," She commanded calmly.

"Alright, is there anything else-"

"GET ME A HORSE!" Xena screamed as loud as she could, her face reddening with the exertion.

The soldier rushed out quickly, taken aback by her display. In all the times he had seen her, she had always maintained a calm and cool air around her. Obviously, something was amiss regarding the deployment.

* * *

Marcus tapped his foot impatiently as he sat in his tent waiting for some development regarding his actions. It had been several candlemarks now and he was restless - at a loss of what to do. The General was well aware that this would be the end of his close friendship with the woman he has served for years but he knew in his heart that his love for Atia and their child was more important to him now. Especially after he was able to observe first hand the dismissive attitude Xena took towards his wishes.

He heard the thundering steps of a couple of hooves and listened intently as they grew louder and louder.

"The Conqueror is approaching!" One of the guards posted outside his tent yelled to the surrounding soldiers as they quickly grouped into a line to welcome their leader.

Marcus sat up straight and took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. His heart was racing and he grew nervous, not knowing what kind of Xena he would be receiving. He didn't have to wonder for long as the tent flap was raised and the Conqueror made her way inside. Her face was expressionless but her eyes bore into his soul. She stepped forward, slowly and deliberately.

"Say your prayers Marcus, 'cause you're going to die a very slow and painful death," slowly she made her way forward, her hands curling around the hilt of her sword. "And when I'm done with you, I'm gonna cut you open and feast on your carcass!" She made her way behind the table in the center of the tent, her hands placed firmly on the table, lunging forward, seething at Marcus. "And when I'm done -"

"Oh would you stop!" Marcus shouted rising quickly from his place. "I only did this so we could talk, okay? You wouldn't listen to me otherwise!"

"I already told you my answer, Marcus and I'm not budging from my decision. That is final."

"Atia is pregnant, Xena." Marcus sighed sitting back down, exasperated and desperate, "I'm not going to give up a second chance at a family."

Xena's pursed her lips at the surprising confession, the anger in her only building. She pulled back and unsheathed her sword. "Good," she concluded after a moment, staring at the end of her sword, "I get to kill two birds with one stone this way."

Marcus looked up at her; eyes widened in surprise. "Xena, you are the last person in all of Greece to ever say something like that!"

He stood and grabbed his sword. Tears pooling in his eyes. "This ends now! Because I'm not gonna let something like that slip by unpunished."

Xena clenched her teeth, her own eyes brimming with tears; at the memories of her past and regret for letting such a distasteful comment slip between her lips. She took on a defensive stance, preparing herself, knowing her words had likely just ended a very important friendship.

The two stood, staring at each other for awhile, daring the other to move. The Conqueror eventually grew tired of this little game and with a yell, threw the table separating them over and lunged forward at Marcus. Steel met steel as two well seasoned warriors fought. Every hit and strike of Xena's was expertly blocked by Marcus as they moved around the tent. Marcus tried his best to remain cool and focused on his task. The Conqueror, on the other hand, had all but let go of the calmed exterior she had presented earlier, letting all her anger come out.

Outside, the guards shifted nervously as they heard the clashes, not sure if this was a fun spontaneous sparring match or if something darker was unfolding between their two superiors.

Marcus was walking backwards carefully as Xena tried to lunge at him. He stumbled slightly at the legs of the table on the floor, causing him to lose concentration. This gave Xena the opening she was looking for and she managed to use the hilt of her sword to jab Marcus in the abdomen. Marcus fell backwards at the unexpected pain but this too made him lose his cool.

"Ahhhh!" He yelled as he brought his sword down hard. Xena managed to block it but just barely, as he brought it down with great force. The two held their positions, inches away from their locked swords. With a might, Marcus pushed Xena backwards and slapped Xena hard on the cheek using the back of his hand.

He took a few steps back, in fear and slight surprise that he had managed to get an edge on her. She responded in kind and slapped him several times until he fell hard on the ground, his sword falling from his hand. From his vantage point, he could see her standing in above him, her sword ready. Xena raised her sword above her head, ready to serve some kind of final blow. She locked eyes on Marcus, seeing the fear and a mixture of sadness in his brown orbs. She clenched her teeth several times, trying to get a hold of her anger, knowing this could be something she would regret. With a sigh, she dropped her sword and turned her back to Marcus, putting her sword away.

Marcus used the opportunity to grab his sword and whack Xena on the head. The Conqueror, however, was quick and managed to see the movement in her peripheral vision. She turned as quickly and she could to stop the blow by stopping the blade with her hands. They were locked again, Marcus shaking from rage, tears in his eyes with Xena trying her hardest to stop the sword, blood dripping from her hands. Marcus finally pushed Xena backwards, then grabbing her by the arm, pushed her forward onto the ground. She screamed in pain and surprise as she hit the ground on her recently healed arm.

Marcus took a few steps back again to calm himself, watching as Xena grabbed her arm in pain and withered. "I'm going to marry Atia, Xena, and that's final!" he nervously demanded.

The Conqueror rose grabbing her arm which would probably need to be reset again, breathing heavily from the exertion of the fight. She stood their staring at Marcus, half expecting an apology from him but he stood defiantly, his confidence in defying her only building as a result of besting her.

After a while, she spoke, "I'm leaving tomorrow for three days. Your little arty had better be done by the time I get back." She spatted out. Then straightened herself out, and left the tent, trying her best to not let the injury show.

Marcus sank back down in his chair, in total shock that she had actually, for once, succumbed to his wishes.


End file.
